


Heart of Stone

by Amelita



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Bullying, Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Style, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Orphans, Trolls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 08:55:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7164338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amelita/pseuds/Amelita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The ugly duckling is a misunderstood myth. It was never about ‘becoming’ a swan. He was a swan all along, he only had to realize it. Being beautiful is not about turning into something other than what you are, it is about changing how you value yourself. The fable is about self-revelation, not transformation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart of Stone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Delmire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delmire/gifts).



 

-

Akihito had always known he was ugly. Even from the moment he was born, the one person who was supposed to find him beautiful no matter what, well, she took one look at his strange silver eyes and wrinkled-old man baby face and dropped him off on the castle steps with a disgusted curl of her upper lip. She had never really wanted a child anyway, and certainly not one that looked like a hideous changeling.

The castle nuns who ended up caring for him did so with reluctant martyrdom of those who believe suffering is good for the soul. There was not a one who gained pleasure by looking at his bulbous head and too small features, and not one who pressed a single kiss to his bald brow.

To make matters worse, he was a sickly child who suffered from terrible colds and earaches. He screamed constantly and gained a reputation for being foul-tempered. His caregivers did what they could for him, but never wasted neither time nor affection on him.

So, through no fault of his own, the sour, unwanted baby grew into a sour, unwanted child.

His mouth forever turned down in unhappiness, the orphan boy was an easy target for the servant’s children who were always eager for someone to torment lower than themselves. They teased him mercilessly, for his thin hair than barely covered his pale scalp, and for his too small mouth and too large teeth that bucked out from beneath his thin lips. They called him ‘fish eyes’ and would make rings around their eyes and jeer at him with their tongues out.

The worst by far though, was the Prince Fei Long.

The Prince was a child that was so striking beautiful that all who saw him could not help but tell him so, and as such, the already spoilt Prince grew into an impossibly vain and cruel child. There was nothing he loved more than making the poor, unwanted and ugly Akihito’s life an utter misery.

One day, when Akihito was eight years old, he sat by the pig pen, using his hands to pile up the mud, his fingers to carve little windows and doors into the mounds and placing little leaves and flowers about to represent the people. In his imagination, it was an entire village, a happy village where everyone was kind and no one cared that he had a sallow complexion and eyes like a fish. In the distance, he could see the other children shouting and laughing. They were playing some kind of warrior game, pretending to ride steeds and fighting with pretend swords. It looked like quite a lot of fun but Akihito didn’t dare try to join them. He knew what would happen if he did, so he turned his back and tried not to let it hurt.

Their laughter and shouts grew closer and closer and Akihito knew he should run away, but he feared bringing attention to himself. Like a pack of dogs, he knew if he ran, they were sure to chase. He did his best to shrink down in hopes they might not even notice him at all.

He was not so lucky.

“Well, what have we here? It smells like a pig and is dirty like a pig, but it is far too ugly to be a pig. What shall we call it?”

Prince Fei Long stood over him, his legs braced apart. He wore a pair of shiny leather breech and instead of a wooden stick for a sword, he had a real carved one that he wore slung about his trim hips in a real leather scabbard. His shirt was white linen and he wore his silky raven hair tied back with a fancy leather strap. The vain boy refused to cut it for he felt it made him look like a dashing pirate.

His green eyes glimmered as he sneered at Akihito’s dirty hands and dirty knees. The other children were still immersed in their roleplay and they called out, “Its a troll! Slay the troll! Drive it out!”

They fell upon skinny, ugly Akihito with his knobby knees and buck teeth with delight, pretending that he was a troll, for trolls were well known to be the ugliest, nastiest creatures of all and if one ever set upon a troll, they should kill it straight away. The little boy screamed and cried as the other children thrashed his back and legs with their fake swords, leaving deep bruises on his pale skin. He ran just as fast as he could, but they were just as fast as he was.

Fei Long pretend-galloped behind, calling out in delight, “All the King’s horses, all the King’s men, to arms, to arms! Drive it back, into the woods, defend the castle! Tally-ho!”

Out the castle gates they ran, and into the fields beyond. The adults spared them hardly a passing glance, for child’s play was of little interest to them. Because Akihito belonged to none of them, they always failed to notice how the others ganged up on him. Fei Long was now right behind him.

Tears streaming down his face, Akihito tripped and stumbled and each time he did, Fei hit him in the back or the butt with the flat of his sword, leaving bruises on top of bruises.

They chased him right into the thicket on the edge of the Dark Forest, but not having the courage to enter, there they stopped. They stood outside cheering their valor and mocking Akihito.

“And stay out!” Fei Long called, picking up a rock and throwing it in Akihito’s direction. The younger boy flinched in fear even though it fell nowhere near him.

The Prince turned round with his chest held high, “A solid victory over the troll, men! And to celebrate, some grog!”

The other boys cheered and they all raced back to the castle, eager to partake of what Fei Long called ‘grog’. It was really just thick apple cider, but the Prince insisted that he and his friends be allowed to drink it in real mugs, just like the adults.

They forgot all about poor Akihito, alone in the dark thicket, covered in bruises, thorns and prickers in his feet. He sat there and cried his poor heart out for he was alone and unwanted and ugly and there wasn’t a single person in the world that cared for him.

His silver eyes filled with tears that streamed freely down his thin cheeks. He stared longly at the castle gates but he did not move from where he stood in the thorny brush. What waited for him back there but more mockery and cruelty? And worse than that; apathy. He couldn’t think of a single person who might notice he was gone, except for Fei Long, and only then because he would have to find someone new to torment.

Akihito turned to face the forest. What was in there that could be as bad as what he was leaving behind? The young boy had always had a vivid imagination, and he loved to build things. He imagined himself building a little cottage deep in the forest where no one would ever bother him or make fun of his dour looks ever again. He would build it with his own two hands, out of thick river mud (which was as hard as clay when it dried) and sticks and branches and he would have a bed of soft grass. He would eat berries and catch fish. Perhaps he’d even find a pet to keep him company. A little faun? Or a wolf cub maybe that would grow up to protect him?

The thought of setting out on such an adventure cheered him considerably. Wiping his eyes with the backs of his muddy hands, he absently smeared it all over his face as he turned to plod into the forest. He picked his way carefully through the brambles and brush, but even being so cautious, he still managed to scratch up his legs and feet quite badly. The mud was drying on his face and hands and it had begun to itch abysmally.

The orphan was still somewhat sickly, and lacked the muscle and height of his more doted upon brethren. It was not long before he was panting and gasping for air. He was hot and hungry and terribly thirsty when finally the thick branches cleared and he found himself looking at a creek. It babbled and burbled its way over a bunch of funny shaped rocks. There was even a small waterfall and it fell into a basin that was smooth and clear and perfect for swimming.

Akihito fell upon it, lowering his face and taking great mouthfuls of cold, fresh water. It was so cold and he drank it so fast that it made his empty stomach cramp around it.

He washed his arms and his face, but it hardly relieved the heat in his flesh and the ache of his back and bones from the beating he had taken. He slipped his threadbare tunic off and folded it as carefully as a merchant’s daughter might fold her one fine gown. He had nothing else to replace it.

With one careful step and then another, he carefully made his way into the basin. The water was painfully cold and it stung against the shallow cuts that covered his feet. Slowly he settled into the water up to his naked shoulders and then flattened out to float on his back. There was just enough room for him to stretch out lengthwise.

It was not long before he was shivering from the cold. The basin was very small and the rocks about it were the smoothest he had ever seen. He decided to climb up on one to warm himself in the sun.

The rock sloped up nicely, next to another that was shaped quite similar, came up to a curve and then dropped off steeply. The rocks were just the right size for a boy of his size to lay. He carefully grabbed hold of the flattish top and pulled himself out of the water. The rock was warm and velvety smooth on his soft belly and the heat felt wonderful. Akihito sighed and relaxed into it, but just then the rock moved!

He cried out in startle and fell back with a splash into the water. It was not nearly as deep as before. The entire pool seemed to be moving around him, gathering itself inwards as the water sloshed and slipped over the rocks that were changing shapes. Akihito screamed in fright and suddenly all movement stopped.

The young boy sat in about a foot of water and panted to catch his breath. The two rocks had come together and he now sat on top of them. He felt lucky that he hadn’t been caught between, for he would surely would have been crushed. He frowned and wondered why they had moved at all, and stopped so suddenly. His head swiveled slowly around to take in the other changes. Many of the rocks were the same, but up behind him they were all piled up strangely, narrower at the base, wider at the top, with the very largest balanced precariously up top. It leaned forward slightly and Akihito jumped back for fear of being crushed by its enormous weight, but it did not fall.

Two large amber stones were embedded in the boulder equidistant apart and just above the center. They gleamed in the sunlight and then, the rock blinked at him.

Akihito blinked back.

It took a few moments more for him to realize that the rest of the pile was in fact, not a pile at all, and rather a giant humanoid mosaic of stones that formed the body of a rock troll.

And he was sitting in its lap.

He swallowed hard.

It lifted an enormous arm and extended a smooth, polished marble finger and poked it in the center of Akihito’s bruised chest. A low gravelly voice grunted out, “Bad.”

Akihito’s lip wobbled and his fear was forgotten in his hurt. Even the hideous rock troll thought he was ugly. He lowered his head in shame. The finger moved to touch his shoulder, where another large purple bruise was forming. “Bad,” the troll grunted again.

He moved over Akihito’s naked little body, touching and cataloging all of his injuries and bruises and with each one giving a displeased sigh and a shake of his massive head. The troll’s voice was unpleasant, words formed by the sound of rocks scraping together, but it was not unkind.

When he was done, he poked Akihito in the stomach again and said, “Soft beautiful things should not be hurt. Should be protected.”

His head snapped up in surprise. Akihito stared at him wonderingly. A tender spark of joy lit inside his skinny chest. He thought he was beautiful?

He thumped his chest with determination. “I protect you!” he proclaimed loudly. Birds scattered from the trees at the booming sound of stones clapping together and even Akihito winced a bit.

There was nothing pleasant to look at when it came to the troll. The boulder that served for his head was misshapen and odd. The top was covered with stringy, green moss. His ears hung off it like flat saucers and his nose rather reminded Akihito of a warty squash. His teeth were crumbly bits of gravel and occasionally pieces fell as he spoke. The rest of his body was no better, but the strength and power he possessed was obvious. That wasn’t the reason Akihito smiled up at him though.

He smiled because Akihito knew better than to judge a person by the way they looked. He smiled because of the kindness he saw in those amber eyes and he knew that kindness was a rare commodity.

The boy held his hand high, offering it up as he had seen the adults do. Though obviously confused by the gesture, the rock troll took hold of it carefully between two of his massive stone fingers. He held Akihito’s hand as though it were the most precious gift he had ever received.

He shook it solemnly, but then he sparked a ragged smile and when Akihito shyly returned it, two lonely, unloved creatures made their very first friend.

 

-

 

[King and Lionheart](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A76a_LNIYwE)

 


End file.
